


Bite Me

by Markovia



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Biting, Blood, F/M, Fighting, M/M, Sex, Smut, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: The last thing Shizuo expected to come home to is a dead Izaya on his floor. It's even stranger when the dead man starts talking.





	Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello pals! I'm busy working on the next few chapters of Masterpiece so I can post it in one go (so the things finished!), so apologies for the wait. Last chapter of Doubt will be out soon and the next chapter of PW. If you feel so inclined, please go check out my Attack on Titan fic 'Rotten', which is a post-Titan piece in which Levi has become involved with underground fighting and alcohol. 
> 
> This is just a fun four chapter thing I came up with while a bit tipsy the other evening! I was like DAMN how have I not written vampire Izaya yet? So, here we go. It'll be more comedic in future chapters hopefully!

It had been another long ass day. Too many thugs in debt, too many punches thrown, not nearly enough cigarettes smoked. Thankfully he’s got a brand new packet in his pocket and one currently stuck between his lips, smoke burning pleasantly in the back of his throat. He doesn't care that it's bad for him, everything he does it bad for him, just look at the state of his hands. His knuckles are raw, split open and his fingers are bleeding from multiple impacts on both faces and concrete. There's still a bit of dust and grit clinging to the blood but Shizuo doesn't care that much about infection, he’ll just have to wash the wounds clean when he’s inside. 

 

He fishes inside his pocket for his keys and taps the cigarette with his other hand to let the excess ash crumble to the ground. It’s beginning to rain lightly, he can feel spray wetting his face, is he’s glad that he’s home. Shizuo doesn't like it when it rains, it makes the city miserable. All he wants is a hot shower, a couple of beers and some of that expensive steak Kasuka brought with him last time he visited that's still sitting in his fridge. His mouth starts salivating at the very thought as it was rare for him to have such high-quality food in the house. Usually he survived on a diet formed predominantly of rice, raw eggs, booze and chocolate. Shizuo was the first to admit he didn't exactly live the healthiest lifestyle. It didn't really matter, his body didn't seem in the least bit affected by his mistreatment, it was stronger and more monstrous than ever. 

 

_ Monster.  _

 

How he hates that insult, it always rang over and over in his head during his rages, stoking his anger only further. He hates the insult but he hates the man who who spits it most even more. Shizuo quickly pushes the thought of the  _ flea  _ out of his mind and grinds his teeth together in annoyance. At least he didn't see him today, that was a positive. 

 

The man flicks his cigarette away so that he can wrench open his front door and he slips his keys back into his pocket as he crosses the threshold. When he flicks on the lights he almost lets out a shriek, because there's glass  _ all over  _ his floor. The draft coming from the side of the room and the way the curtains are twisting tell him that the window’s broken, so he crosses the room to find the object that smashed it. He growls under his breath as he stomps behind the sofa. If it's local kids, he’ll fucking kill them. When he gets a look behind the couch his eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

 

Izaya’s sprawled out face-down across his carpet, out-cold and covered in bloody shards of glass. Fuck, there’s blood  _ everywhere.  _ There's a strange lack of cuts to Izaya’s clothes which immediately makes the blond suspicious so he shoves his foot beneath the man’s ribs and flips him onto his back. Izaya flops over like a rag doll and when Shizuo gets a look at his face he can see that something is very... _ off.  _ The informant has always been pale but tonight he’s downright alabaster. His lips are cracked and his skin is flaky and dry. There’s a large, gaping wound running around his throat, it looks as if someone had taken a large bite out of his flesh. Shizuo wrinkles his nose and leans slightly closer. That’s  _ exactly  _ what it looks like, there’s a number of jagged crescents visible through the gore -  _ teeth.  _ Shizuo recoils in disgust and holds a hand over his mouth. 

 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” he snarls, face dropping into a dark scowl. He crouches down after a moment of getting used to the sight of the informant’s ruined body and presses two fingers against a limp wrist.  _ Nothing.  _ Shizuo blinks and looks back up to Izaya’s face. His usually bright, nasty eyes are dull and cloudy. It’s unsettling to say the least and the blond swallows as a shiver runs down his spine. “Someone finally get to you, huh?”

 

He stares at the unmoving corpse and sighs, pulling another cigarette from his top pocket. Slowly he moves to sit with his legs crossed, elbows settling on his knees. With a flick of his fingers, the end is lit and he draws in a large breath of smoke to try and calm himself down. Izaya looks so pathetic like this, it doesn’t suit him. Shizuo rolls his head to one side, resting his cheek against his raw knuckles. 

 

“Can’t say I blame them, flea. You’re an evil son of a bitch, you know that?” he sighs, breathing out a plume of smoke. Hesitantly, he reaches forward and touches his bloody fingertips to Izaya’s eyes, pulling the lids down so he doesn’t have to look at them anymore. The lifeless stare makes him uncomfortable. “Why’d they throw you through my window, huh? Maybe they thought I’d like to see you dead. Bit of a weird present if you ask me.” 

 

Next, he reaches down to the informant's mouth, which is slack and hanging open. With more gentleness than he thought possible, he pushes his lips together. Sure, he hates Izaya’s guts but it doesn’t feel right to have him looking like that, at least now he just looks like he’s sleeping. Just as he closes his mouth, a sharp point digs into his thumb and he yelps, pulling his hand back. 

 

“Fuck,  _ ow, _ ” he groans, holding his hand up to his face. There’s a small spot of blood blossoming from a tiny cut on the tip. “How is it you still manage to cut me, even when you’re dead?”

 

The blond scowls and jams his thumb in his mouth to clean the blood away. He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes, continuing to smoke. It’s strange to think that Izaya is dead on his living room floor, he isn’t quite sure how to feel. Surely he should be glad, elated even, that the blood-sucking flea is finally gone. That’s what he’s always wanted, that’s what he always shouts about in the streets during their fights - right? The cigarette burns out, so he pushes it into a discarded beer can that’s propped up against the back of the sofa. There’s a number of grim-filled cans around the room that he’s not bothered to throw away, he really needs to buy an ashtray. 

 

“N-not dead.”

 

Shizuo freezes and turns his head down to look at the corpse. Izaya’s eyes are open again. They’re still cloudy and dead-looking but they’re  _ open _ and Izaya’s cracked mouth is curving up into a slight smirk. He drops the beer can onto the floor and ash spills out onto the wooden floor next to the informant’s hand. 

 

“Izaya?” Shizuo blinks, somewhat shocked. He prods the man in the side and Izaya scowls, one eye wincing slightly in pain. “How-?”

 

“Sh-Shizu-chan,” he mumbles, blinking slowly as if trying to focus his vision.

 

Shizuo opens and closes his mouth twice in disbelief. “B-but, you didn’t have a pulse, you’re  _ dead- _ ”

 

“Thirsty,” Izaya states, his voice little more than a rasp. The blond frowns and shuffles forward so that he is bending over Izaya’s torso, peering directly at his face. The informant slowly, painfully turns his head so he’s looking directly up at the other man. “ _ Thirsty. _ ”

 

The blond scoffs and flicks Izaya’s nose with his forefinger. He’d usually punch him straight in the face but he’s a little worried that he’ll actually kill the informant considering the state he’s in. “Why the fuck would I waste good water on you?”

 

Izaya smiles and tries to raise one of his hands but can’t muster the energy. It’s obvious from the exhaustion circling his eyes and the way his rasping voice slurs slightly. “For the same reason you haven’t punched me yet. You’re too much of a good person, Shizu-chan. Or at least that’s how you want to appear.”

 

“I  _ am  _ a good person,” Shizuo replies, annoyed. “And if you don’t shut your fucking mouth then I won’t get you any water.”

 

“Had to be you,” Izaya moans, rolling his head to one side. The jagged flesh of his throat pops and the visible veins twist in such a way that makes Shizuo’s stomach roll. “How troublesome.”

 

Shizuo frowns and moves his gaze up to Izaya’s cloudy eyes, away from the disgusting wound. “What happened to you? How the  _ fuck  _ are you alive?”

 

“So many questions.”

 

“You’re half-dead on my floor, in  _ my  _ apartment. If you don’t want me to throw you back out of the window you came in through, start talking,” Shizuo growls, baring his teeth at the other man. “Why are you in my apartment?”

 

Izaya draws in a pained breath and winces as his crushed ribs crack with the motion. “I can’t remember a lot. I guess I must have been thrown through your window - I can’t say for sure whether or not that was intentional or I just have the worst luck in the world.”

 

Shizuo rolls his eyes. “You’re still being vague, jackass.”

 

The informant’s cracked lips stretch out into a thin smile, he looks delirious. His dead eyes widen slightly as he draws in a breath which crackles through his cracked rib cage and sends a look of pain shooting across his face. Shizuo raises a brow and leans down so that he can get a better look at the wound on his neck. Izaya watches him closely, holding his breath at the proximity.

 

“You’re no use in this state, flea,” Shizuo mumbles, brows dipping to the centre of his forehead. “I’ll call Shin-”

 

Suddenly, the wounded man lurches up, driven by energy that the blond didn’t think he possessed in his current state. His mouth latches onto the juncture of Shizuo’s neck, lips sucking down onto the skin. Shizuo lets out a startled yelp and raises a hand as if to shove Izaya’s shoulder but the smaller man bites down and a sudden, sharp pain distracts him. This isn’t normal, it hurts, it  _ hurts  _ and nothing ever hurts. He’s been stabbed multiple times, shot, beaten with iron bars - it’s never hurt like this. Shizuo’s eyes widen as he feels liquid start to drip down his neck and when he swivels his gaze to look at Izaya he can see that there’s blood pooling on the floor. It hurts but he can’t move, it’s like the pain has frozen him in place. He feels Izaya’s tongue lapping at his neck and suddenly the pain dissipates, the tone shifts and heat rushes through his body as quick as the blood leaves it. He feels as if he’s on fire, as if the viscous liquid beneath his skin has reached boiling point and threatens to burst through the thick layers of flesh. Unconsciously, he starts to pant and he clenches his fists where they’ve fallen on the smaller man’s chest. 

 

One of Izaya’s hands threads through the back of his hair and tugs, not hard enough to be uncomfortable, not soft enough to be defined as tender. Shizuo balks at the way it makes his cheeks grow hot -  _ nothing  _ about Izaya is tender, he shouldn’t even be thinking about such things, not when the informant is tearing his throat to shreds with his fucking teeth. Now the pain is dwindling, he starts to realise what exactly is happening - Izaya’s teeth have managed to break through his skin in a way his knives never could. That alone is terrifying but what adds to Shizuo’s horror even further is the way the informant is groaning and bucking his hips into the air. The broken, lustful noise is what finally makes Shizuo jolt back and shove Izaya roughly into the floor with a hand to the chest. His free palm curves around the bite mark on his neck and he turns his eyes down to glare incredulously at the other man. 

 

Izaya’s staring back, eyes no longer clouded with death. The blond recoils slightly at the sight of him, of his flawless face and bloody mouth and when he scowls, Shizuo notices that his canines have elongated past his bottom lip. There’s no hint of the cracked skin or the bruising on his face and when Shizuo removes his hand he can see that the bite mark on his neck is slowly knitting itself back together. 

 

“W-what are you doing?” he stammers, trying to piece together what exactly just happened. Shizuo reaches up to drag his fingers across the nasty puncture wounds Izaya’s made in his shoulder and growls when he feels blood running hot and sticky down his arm. “What the fuck is happening?”

 

Izaya draws in a breath and lifts a hand to wipe the blood away from his mouth. He grimaces at the sight of it lingering on his fingers. “ Ugh, this is so disgusting. You taste like shit.”

 

“Flea-”

 

“I don’t know what the fuck is happening,” he snaps, pushing himself up onto his elbows. An unpleasant smile stretches across his face, he tilts his head and fixes Shizuo with those dark, nasty eyes of his. “I can’t remember how I got here.” 

 

Shizuo shakes his head. “What?”

 

“Um, can’t you hear me, you stup-”

 

“I can fucking hear you, you little shit,” Shizuo snarls. He gestures to Izaya’s throat. “How did - I mean, your throat was all torn up.”

 

The informant sits upright slowly, blinking as if his head’s spinning. The hand he’s propping himself up with slips and he would have clattered to the floor but Shizuo reaches out and snatches the front of his shirt to hold him steady. Izaya looks down at Shizuo’s hand, then up at his face, brows furrowing slightly in confusion. The blond releases him quickly, cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. Though he stares for a moment longer, Izaya doesn’t mention the action, he simply continues with the prior conversation.

 

“I think I was attacked,” Izaya says, resting back down on his elbows. He still looks a little tired but his condition has improved to such an extent that Shizuo can’t help but feel something is very wrong. 

 

“No shit. Why did you bite me?”

 

“Because you’re just so  _ delicious,  _ obviously,” the informant says, sarcastically. He swallows and grimaces at the lingering taste of blood on his tongue. “I don’t know  _ why _ , I just wanted to. Needed to, in fa-”

 

Izaya’s cut off when an empty beer can smacks into the side of his head. With a yelp, he presses a hand against his cheek and turns his gaze back to Shizuo, who looks like he’s about to explode. 

 

“Stop fucking about with my, flea,” he growls, prodding a finger into Izaya’s chest. It’s only a simple action but the informant’s elbows collapse under the weight of the monstrous strength and he’s sent smacking into the ground below. “Simple terms, tell me.”

 

Izaya’s eyes unfocus for a moment, as if he’s deep in thought, then he screws his eyes shut. The blond keeps him pinned but he’s able to move his arms, so he raises them up and flexes his hands in and out a few times. He rolls his tongue carefully across the front of his teeth and his eyes snap open. There’s shock in his expression, shock and anger. 

 

“You believe in monsters, right Shizu-chan?” Izaya asks, softly. The blond glares back at him silently, waiting for him to continue. “After all this city’s seen, I think it would be stupid not to - then again, you are an idiot so I shouldn’t expect too much of you.”

 

“Izaya-”

 

“There are other monsters,” he continues, trying to push against Shizuo’s finger without any luck. “One’s smarter than you. But surely that’s not the case here. I’m not-”

 

Shizuo frowns and waves his free hand in front of Izaya’s face to grab his attention. “Not?”

 

The brunet’s not really looking at Shizuo anymore, he’s far too lost in his own head, piecing together the scene with what information he has. Eventually his gaze focuses on the other man’s and the confused look turns to a glare. “I’m  _ not  _ a monster. I can’t be. Ugh, what’s going on?”

 

He starts rambling incoherently, pale face shining with perspiration. Shizuo peers down at him for a moment, then tuts and shakes his head. 

 

“For once, I’m sorry about this,” he comments. With that, he raises his fist and socks Izaya hard on the side of the head. It’s not enough to kill him but it instantly knocks him out cold. The blond sighs and takes a look at the scene around him - at Izaya’s unconscious form, at the glass and blood and ash. Irritably he pinches the bridge of his nose and fishes in his pocket to find his phone. He dials one of only eight contacts in the menu -  _ Kasuka, Tom, Akane, Celty, Kadota, Fucking dickhead fleabag, Mum -  _ “Shinra, I really need you to get your ass to my place.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
